Almost
by TJ-TeeJay
Summary: Sweet little vignette that continues where episode 2x07 POV left off. Warning: Ends up very smutty, hence it gets an R rating. Don't read if you don't like graphic sexual content. ONE SHOT.


**Almost**

_by TeeJay_

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**Author's Note:**  
_TeeJay's done it again, she's written an R-rated story! And I have Sisterdebmac to shoulder all the blame for it. But she'll do it gladly. (Won't you?)_

_This is what we call a gapper. Something to fill the void that an episode left us with. It's also veering off into an AU. A more pleasant one than on the show, I'm telling you. It starts off right where episode 2x07 "P.O.V." ended. Aw... my all time favorite Adam/Joan scene. Of course I had to do something with it eventually._

_Now, get into your best smutty mood as you read this. It's just a little fluff for my usually oh-so fluffless Joaniverses. Reviews of course always welcome. (Sisterdebmac, how did I do?)_

_**Warning!** Rated R. As R as you can get. Or rather as R as _I_ can get._

**Disclaimer:**  
_These characters and settings are not mine. Nor am I claiming they are. They are property of CBS, Barbara Hall Productions, Sony or whoever else they might belong to. I'm not making any money out of this, although I wish I was._

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The colors started to swim before his eyes, everything blurred together in swirls of reds and blues and yellows and greens. His mother's voice filtered through to his ears, but he didn't really hear her words, didn't comprehend their meaning. And then suddenly there was Jane, her soft, warm hand on his back, and there was no holding back the tears anymore.

Her arms came around him, and it was all he could do to let her envelop him, to seek solace in her bosom that smelled of flowery laundry detergent and a hint of fruity perfume. And he didn't feel any shame for his tears, didn't feel embarrassed to cry in front of her. She knew he missed his mother—terribly, grievously, painfully—she was here to soak up his sorrow, to give him her love and just to be there for whatever he might need.

They stayed like that for a while, Joan's hand stroking his soft hair, him clutching her back, his sobs eventually subsiding. A few tears of her own had dislodged and ran down her cheeks, she couldn't help but share his pain, not wanting to imagine what she'd do if she lost her own mother, how painful an experience that would be. And Adam had been only twelve when he lost his.

Joan felt Adam's grip on her loosen and she took a small step back. She watched him wipe the tears from his eyes with his hands. "Sorry," he said just above a whisper.

She had to swallow the urge to let tears form in her own eyes again as she said just as softly. "For what? You have nothing to apologize for."

"Yeah, I know," he told her. "But you'd think I would have come to terms with it after four years, wouldn't you?"

"I don't think you ever really get over it, Adam. And maybe you're not supposed to. You're entitled to be missing her, especially after seeing this." Joan indicated the TV screen where Elizabeth was watching a 7-year-old Adam was riding a bike along the street in front of the Rove's house, cheering him on.

He stole a glance at the screen but looked away again quickly, feeling the knot in his stomach intensify at seeing his mother so lively and happy. He sniffled his nose and Joan almost instinctively reached for a tissue in her jacket pocket, holding it out to Adam, who accepted it and blew his nose.

Joan moved to stand behind him and lightly placed her hands on his shoulders, softly asking, "Do you wanna watch the rest of them?"

He drew in a breath through his nose and held it before he said. "No, not right now."

"We can watch them some other time, maybe on the couch when it's not quite that intense. I mean, if you want."

Adam got up from his chair and turned so that he was facing Joan. "Yeah, I'd love that." After a short pause, he added, "Thank you. Thank you for doing this. Jane, you..."

A small smile was playing at her lips and Adam looked at her curiously. She answered before he could ask what amused her. "I was jealous. Of Judith. That's, like..." she threw her hands in the air a little, "totally crazy, right? But, I mean... I saw you in the art room, how she hugged you. Can you really blame me for what I thought was going on?" It wasn't so much an accusation as a simple question.

Adam was silent for a moment before he once again explained, "It was totally innocent, Jane. Do you know what she said to me? She said you saved her life this summer."

Joan also grew quiet, her face sinking. "God, I totally messed up, didn't I?"

"You apologized, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she admitted meekly. "But it was still completely unfair. To both of you."

"Maybe so, but she's gonna forgive you." He smiled at her. "She probably already has. You're Joanith, remember?"

Joan nodded and heard Adam say, "I hate it when we fight. I love you, Jane. You know that, right?"

"Yes, I do. Of course I do," she told him. "And I hate it when we fight too."

Adam drew closer to Joan, placing his hands on her hips, pulling her to him. Instinctively, naturally, their lips met in the sweetest, softest kiss. Joan could taste the salt on his lips from his tears and it made her wish she could erase all his sorrow. She pushed her own lips to his even more, not caring whether the movement made the bruises on her chin hurt a little.

Suddenly, she not only wanted to be close to him, she wanted him—wanted him more than she ever had before. Almost automatically, her tongue gently but firmly pressed his lips apart, sliding into his mouth. A thousand points of light exploded in her head and she felt her body tingle as a funny feeling came on in the area between her thighs.

His tongue caressed hers in a way that made her swoon and she felt his hand sliding up her back and underneath her jacket and cotton top, moving up and up over her bare skin, pressing her body closer to his. It made her wild with longing and arousal. Her own hands found their way to the nape of Adam's neck and reached into his hair. She curled her fingers so that they almost clawed into his skin there.

Adam pressed his body against hers and, pushing the chair sideways, out of the way, they moved backwards until Joan's back collided with the metal shelf behind her, making it rattle in its hinges. "Oh God," she moaned. "Adam, we..."

He released his tight hold on her for a second. "Jane, we don't have to..."

"No," she breathed out, grabbing another handful of his hair. "Don't stop."

His mouth was on hers again almost immediately, then on her neck before he stopped and retreated again. "Let's go to my room."

It wasn't a request or a suggestion. It was a plea. For the very first time, he felt like Joan might want it too, like they were ready to take their relationship that one step further.

"Okay," she gulped out.

They almost bolted from the shed and into the house through the back door. Adam took her by the hand and they stumbled up the stairs until they were in his room. It was in a bit of disarray, clothes carelessly crumpled on the floor, but neither Joan nor Adam had eyes for that right at this moment.

Standing in front of his bed, Adam's lips found Joan's mouth again, his hand first at the back of her neck, then moving to the front of her pale pink jacket, pulling at it. Joan automatically moved her arms backwards, so Adam could strip the jacket off of her where it fell to the floor carelessly.

At the same time, Joan's hands found the hem of Adam's dark green t-shirt. She felt for the thermal shirt underneath and pulled it out of his jeans. He lifted his arms and Joan lifted the shirts over his head to expose his naked torso. She moved her fingers down the midline of it, over his fair skin, and she heard Adam gasp at the simple movement, his arousal mirroring her own.

His face moved closer to her again, kissing the side of her neck, planting soft kisses on his way down until he reached her shoulder where her top was in the way. She tilted her head back in pure pleasure. Nothing anyone had ever done to her had felt this good.

He pulled Joan's cotton top off over her head, leaving her standing in front of him in her light blue bra and olive jeans. He barely had time to admire her beauty before he started kissing her again, this time starting just beneath her breasts and down her belly until he stopped to crouch in front of her, opening her jeans button and zipper, pulling the jeans down and off.

And in a sudden flash of clarity, an almost panicked thought formed in Joan's head: _God, why did I pick the pair of unsexy white panties this morning?_

But Adam's mind wasn't on her panties' visual appeal, it was on how to get rid of them as quickly as possible, and Joan lost her train of thought too when she felt Adam's hands on hers, guiding them to his jeans button and fly. And Joan knew immediately what she was supposed to do.

Her bra and the rest of their underwear came off just as quickly. Adam lowered Joan onto his unmade bed and Joan didn't know what to do first. So many things were happening at the same time, it was as if she was on overload. She wanted to feel Adam on every part of her fully exposed body, he couldn't move fast enough, even though his lips and hands seemed to know exactly where to be.

Her own hands came around his back, her fingertips tracing his spine before she curled her fingers with pleasure, gently digging them into his flesh as he touched her breast and caressed her right nipple until the soft skin began to shrink at his touch, quickly moving on to her left one. "Adam," she managed to gulp out in a sigh.

That seemed to spur him on, he moved from her left nipple to kiss her right one, slightly sucking at it. Joan thought she might explode any second. Was this the moment where she would tell him to move inside of her? Could this get any more intense?

She felt what it could mean when Adam's fingers moved to her thighs, to the tender area between her legs. He reached for her labia and she could feel the wetness between her legs and knew that she was ready. There suddenly was no fear, only longing and anticipation. "Adam," she gasped out again.

He shifted his position so that he was atop her and when he lowered himself onto her, she could feel that his penis was hard against her thighs. He was just as ready as she was.

And with that very last shred of reason left in her brain, she gasped out, "Adam. We need a condom."

"Oh dammit," he muttered, stopping in mid-motion, blinking once as he looked at her as if waking from a trance. "I don't have one up here. It's in the bag in the shed," he forced out.

"We're not doing this without a condom," Joan said in as sober a voice as she could muster.

"No way we're doing it without a condom," Adam seconded her, moving over to his side to lie next to Joan. He breathed out for a long moment before he said, "I really messed up this one. Should have thought about the condom earlier," he said with a hint of regret in his voice, adding, "I can go get it."

But Joan smiled, still panting slightly, and reached to caress his hairline, whispering. "No, let's save it for the next time. This was amazing. Let's just leave it at that for now, okay?"

He smiled back at her, his brown eyes darkly intense on her. "Okay."

And for the first time today, she said to him what he had said to her so unhesitatingly earlier. "I love you," she whispered, and it didn't sound fake or cheesy or out of place. Because she meant it.

"I love you too," he replied, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw.

"You know..." Joan started slowly, "from the moment we first kissed, I knew I wanted my first time to be with you."

"Oh Jane," Adam began, but then trailed off, a thoughtful expression on his face.

She read his hesitation and something occurred to her. Had she just ruined it? Had she told him in so many words that her expectations were maybe too high? Did he fear that they might be? That he might not live up to what she was hoping for from their first time together?

She quickly began to stammer, "I... Adam, I... I didn't mean to say... that you... oh God," she breathed out, then picked up the sentence again, "...that this was any less wonderful of a start than I expected. I mean, this was great. It's gonna be great the next time. I won't be disappointed. You know, in case you were worrying."

"I wasn't... worrying. To be honest, I didn't know what to expect. It kinda just happened, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Joan smiled. "And when we go... the whole way the next time, it'll be just as great. Because it'll be with you."

It was all Adam could do to hold back the tears at Joan's sweet words. Hesitantly, he asked, "Aren't you afraid it's gonna hurt?"

Joan thought for a moment, before she answered, "It probably will. But I'm not really scared. I mean, I am a little, but I think the pleasure might outweigh the pain in the end."

Adam licked his lower lip in an unconscious gesture. "Yeah. I guess."

"Hey," she whispered as she continued playing with his hair, "it's gonna be fine. Don't worry, all right?"

He nodded. "Okay."

They lay in silence for a while and Joan suddenly felt very self-conscious about her naked body. She desperately searched for something to say, something to break the tension. And because she couldn't think of anything, she noticed that her stomach was rumbling. She had skipped dinner and it was catching up with her. She blurted, "Hey, you hungry?"

Adam looked at her with surprise written all over his face for a moment before he quickly recovered. "Oh, uhm... yeah, I guess."

"You wanna have dinner?"

"I..." Adam didn't know how to answer that. He was lying here next to his beautiful Jane—in his bed. They were both naked and he couldn't get enough of her beauty, and she was asking him if he wanted to have dinner? "Jane, I..."

But Joan was already sitting up, fishing for her clothes on the floor, the sheets wrapped awkwardly around her waist. "Come on, you said you were hungry."

Adam sighed and sat up as well. Guess that was it in terms of admiring his naked, well-curved girlfriend for the night. "Okay, let's have dinner," he told her, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice as he looked for his boxers and the rest of his clothes.

And as he watched Joan putting on her panties and bra from behind, he felt a tingling sensation of anticipated longing run up his spine—for the next time, the next time that would be the first time. For both of them. And it would indeed be wonderful. Because it was Jane.

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THE END.


End file.
